


Mahanon Lavellan

by MildmayTheFox



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Inner Dialogue, M/M, Sassy Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Varric is still ma boi, What is going on?, but only in his mind, it is possible to make Dorian speechless, next time we'll make him blush, why am i here?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27348379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildmayTheFox/pseuds/MildmayTheFox
Summary: This is a faithful re-telling of Mahanon Lavellans travels through Thadas. Finding himself waking up in a jail cell was bad enough, now he must fight demons and any other unholy monsters that come his way as he fights to seal the breach in the sky and bring peace back to his country. As a Dalish elf, this is not going to be easy as prejudices run high and tempers are short. Luckily he will not be alone as he is joined by a rag-tag group of people willing to help him along the way as the newly formed Inquisition steps up to do what must be done.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my fanfiction. It really means a lot to me and comments are always welcome.  
> This is basically a fanfiction that will give you a look into the inner working of my Inquisitors mind and why I chose the responses I chose though out the game. I hope you enjoy.

Darkness, swirling and swaying in his already turbulent mind. Were his eyes open or were they closed? Why couldn’t he seem to clear his head from this oppressive haze? Sparks of green laced across his eyelids and then a pain erupted from his left hand that jarred his senses back to the surface, like ice water to the face. Blinking he looked around and is instantly disturbed by what he sees. A torn shard of green swirls in the distance mixing with the dark chasm that is the sky, illuminating a barren landscape with its sickly rays. No stars hover in its inky blackness, no sun, no moon, it is void and lifeless.

“Quickly!” a woman’s voice calls to him and he spins around to find it’s owner, “This way!”

He lays his eyes on a figure in the distance standing beside another smaller swirling tear of green, beckoning him towards herself. He takes a step towards the figure on shaky legs but falters, unsure if he should trust this mysterious person. Almost as soon as this thought crosses his mind the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up as a faint sound reaches his ears. A sickening chittering coming from behind him. His mind tells him not to look and every sense in his body is screaming at him to run, but fear grips him to the spot. Panicking he turns his head slightly so that out of the corner of his eye he can see creatures scurrying and crawling towards him. They look nothing like anything he has ever seen before, but they remind him of something right out of a nightmare. Limbs twisted and gnarled they push forward getting closer by the second. The sounds they make are almost defining now as they clamber towards him. He only has a split second to weigh up his options. He takes his chance and runs towards the figure that called to him, scrambling over rocks and shards of dirt that bite and cute at his hands when he stumbles.

The nightmarish creatures are getting closer by the second, but so does the figure that called out to him. He can make out her features now, old and panicked. She must be as scared as he is, but she must also be very brave to wait this long for him. Faced as she was by the full view of the monstrous hoard of unknown creatures that are chasing him. She stands fast, her hand outstretched toward him. Finally, he reached her, his hand grasping out and grabbing hold of her thin outstretched hand. It is so frail looking, but her grip is like a vice as she pulls him behind her towards the green tear.

It almost feels like they are both going to make it, when suddenly something grabs at his leg, tripping him. He yells out in surprise and stumbles but manages to stay on his feet. The lady turns slightly to see what is happening, fear evident in her pale eyes. She hauls him bodily in front of her, shielding him from the creatures right at their heels, determination burning bright in her eyes,

“Go!” she yells and for a split second their eyes meet, they are full of warmth and determination with only a hint of sadness buried deep behind them. She pushed him away from her, causing him to fall in his surprise ad he began to fall backwards towards the tear in the sky.

“No!” he yells, realisation crossing his face. His fingers grasp in a vain attempt to reach after her. He can’t let it end like this, this is not how these kind of things are supposed to play out. He panics, his hand coming away with nothing but thin air, his eyes growing bigger and bigger as he sees the monsters closing in on the woman who has saved him. Then everything goes dark and he is falling, one thought whispering on his mind before unconsciousness takes him,

I don’t even know her name.

~*~

His senses are slow to awaken the second time - or had he awoken before, ever so briefly before falling back into a restless fevered dream. His head lolls to the side as he painfully tries to lift it, the movement is too much for him and his head dips back down, his chin resting on his chest. Suddenly a cracking noise sparks and a scorching pain runs up his whole arm, starting from his left palm and coursing all the way up to his elbow. His eyes fly open and he yells out in pain bringing his arm in close to himself. After the wave of nausea that fallows the pain he tries to take in his surroundings with bleary eyes. He is in a dark, damp room that’s only source of light comes from a couple of flickering torches on the walls. There are men standing all around him, all armed and clearly on guard. He tries to move but finds he has been restrained, his eyes grow wide as they dart around frantically trying to find some way of escape. What was going on? Who were these people, and why had they imprisoned him? Was this a group of slavers? He had heard horror stories of this kind of thing happening, but he never thought it would happen to him. How had he even got here in the first place? He racked his brain for an answer, but with a panicked realisation he found he could not recall anything.

Before he could go into proper panic mode there was another sudden spark of green and his hand flares with pain again. The wooden door in front of him bursts open as if on cue and a formidable looking woman marches in. She is dressed in medium weight armour and a sword that looks well used hangs at her side. Her face was a wash of stone cold hostility and anger as she moves around the room. Following shortly after, he noticed another woman walked into the room. This one was smaller, hooded and more agile looking. She seemed to have a fluidity to her movements that scared him more than the first woman’s stony appearance ever could. She moved silently, her gaze never leaving him for even a second. He felt like a mouse under the cool gaze of a cat. She folded her hands behind her and stood a little off to his left, not saying a word, her face masked slightly by the hood she wore.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?” the first lady demanded, her accent thick. She moved so that she was now standing behind him. This made him painfully aware of how vulnerable he was and his attention was now firmly on her, even though he could not see her properly from where he knelt on the floor. “The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” she paused, moving again so that she was standing right in front of him making it so that he was forced to strain his neck to look up at her. “Except from you.” she accused glaring down at him. He found he couldn’t keep her gaze and so dropped his head down, his eyes now staring at her feet.

This was not boding well for him and he knew it. He had to think fast. Conclave? Conclave? Think, think, think! Yes, that was it! He had been sent to this conclave with a group of his clansmen to spy on the proceedings. This business with the mages and Templars had gone on long enough. The problem had escalated so drastically in the past couple of years that it was starting to effect everyone - human or not. This was far too big a problem for the clan to bury their heads in the sand, and he had argued as much before his elder had finally given in. No one had been more surprised than himself when he had spoken up so passionately about the subject, a factor that probably weighed heavily in favour of the clan getting involved. He sighed thinking back on it, oh how he wished he had just stayed quiet like he normally would. His silent reflection did not go unnoticed by the two women, who seemed to mistake his silence for some form of insubordination or worse, acknowledgement of guilt. The silent one raised a thin eyebrow slightly while the more expressive of the two huffed in annoyance, pouncing forward to grab his restraints harshly.

“Explain this?” she yelled, pulling his restrained arms upwards and out so that his hands were in full view to him. A green spark ignited in his left palm, the light blinding him after the darkness of his jail cell. Pain prickled up his arm starting from a green gash in the middle of his palm that he could now see clearly for the first time. His eyes widened as he began to panic at the sight despite the pain he was feeling.

“I can’t.” he finally yelled, his panic clearly portrayed in his voice.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” The woman demanded, leaning over him and getting right in his face.

“I don’t know what that is or how it got there.” he protested, trying to get his hand with the offending object on it as far away from himself as possible. Which wasn’t that far considering the woman still held his restraints in a death grip.

“You’re lying!” she accused, her voice all but a growl as she moved to strike him. He shrank back anticipating the hit, but it never lands. Looking back up cautiously he saw that the other woman had moved forward to stand between them, her hand holding the first lady by the wrist. Her gaze was cool and level and her words gave no room for argument,

“We need him Cassandra.” He can’t help but note that her accent is different from the first lady’s - from Cassandra - more musical, possibly Orlesian? Her hand falls away from Cassandra’s once she is certain that she will not continue with the beating she was about to give him.

With the couple of moments this display has brought him he frantically racks his brain over everything he can remember. He had gone to this conclave they spoke of, he knew that for a fact. He remembered sneaking into the temple with a couple of his clansmen … his … clansmen? No … no no no! Suddenly he felt his stomach drop and his guts tied into knots. How could he forget his own people? His eyes grew wide as he searches for answers in his own mind. He feels sick and a cold shiver of dread travels up his spin as he tries to fight back the bile forcing its way up the back of his throat.

“All those people.” he whispers, bringing their attention back to him. His breathing is becoming ragged as he clenches his fists in frustration. How did this all happen? How could they possibly think he could do this to his own people? To his … family? “Everyone … is dead?”

Hearing the panic growing in his voice the second woman stepped in, “Do you remember what happened? How it all began?” she questions. Her voice is even and clinical. For some reason it seems to calm him and he tries to hold onto this olive branch she is offering. He can’t think about these things right now. He needs to remember all that he can. Taking a few calming breath he tries to recall what he remembered last.

“I remember running.” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he retraces his steps in his mind, “Things were chasing me and then … a woman?”

“A woman?” she cuts in. Her voice may have stayed calm, but the speed at which she had jumped on that tiny detail had him curious. Who did she hope this lady was? Cassandra seemed to be bristling behind her, clearly impatient for his answer. Who was this woman to them? He carried on, watching their faces closely for any signs,

“She reached out to me, but then …” he paused. But then … what? What happened next? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember what the lady had looked like. Sighing heavily Cassandra stepped forward, she could see that this was getting them nowhere,

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” she ordered, “I will take him to the rift.” 

Leliana looked Cassandra in the eye for a second - like they were having an unspoken conversation - before nodding minutely and walking out of the room. The door closed behind her softly, her feet not once making a sound on the hard stone floor.

His eyes trailed after her, lingering on the sold wood of the door before turning his gaze to Cassandra, a cautious mistrustful expression on his face. She clearly did not like him - so far the feeling was mutual - but he needed to get her trust him if he wanted to get out of this mess. That and he had answers he needed in order to try and fill in the gaps in his memory.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure where to begin. Cassandra looked down at him, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she seemed to size him up. Her face dropped when she finally came to an answer in her mind and she sighed inaudibly before speaking,

“It will be easier to show you.”

With that she bent forward and unlocked the wooden blocks holding his wrists. They clattered to the ground along with the chain that had been keeping him from moving away from the centre of the room. He got to his feet slowly, moving his wrists in the proses to try and regain some feeling in them. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when one of the guards stepped forward and bound his wrists again, this time with rope. Honestly, what was he going to do? He was one elf, unarmed and surrounded by a group of humans twice his size. So why did they all seem so on edge around him? His eyes flicked between Cassandra and the guard as she motioned him to follow.

They led him up a flight a stairs that were lit with the same flickering torches as the room he had been in. They smelled bad and made his eyes sting from the smoke they produced. He was glad when he began to feel a breeze on his face and then they were outside. He attempted to shield his eyes from the light that assaulted his vision. The sun shone so bright that it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but then he saw it. His jaw dropped and his hands dropped away from his face. There, hanging above him, a swirling cloud of green tore across the sky, mixing with grey clouds to produce a sickly ominous shroud that hung like a presence in the sky.

“We call it “the breach”.” Cassandra supplied, looking in the direction of his gaze. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with every passing hour.” her gaze lingers on the swirling gash in the sky, her voice calm despite what they were facing, “It’s not the only rift.” she added, “Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

She caught his eye and did not let her gaze falter, resolve clear in her voice, “Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

He gulped slightly, unsure what to say. He was saved from answering her when his hand flared up again. The pain snapped through his veins far more intense than before. He gasped in pain, gritting his teeth and clutching his arm close to his body.

“Each time the breach expands, your mark expands … and it is killing you.” Cassandra explained matter-of-factly, her tone even, “It may be the key to stopping this. But there isn’t much time.” she turned to continue walking, the conversation over as far as she was concerned. But he had questions that he needed and wanted answered.

“You say it may be the key? To doing what?” he all but pleaded in his desperation for answers. She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes scanning over his features before resting on his arm that he was still holding protectively to his body. He didn’t know what she saw in that moment, but her face softened slightly and she sighed before she turned back around and explained,

“Closing the breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance however.” she stated, looking him in the eye again, drilling home the importance of her next words, “And yours.”

He blinked in surprise, “You still think I did this? To myself?” he asked incredulously, his brow furrowing in anger.

“Not intentionally.” she offered, her voice calm and steady, not seeming to care at all about his outburst, “Something clearly went wrong.” she added.

But I didn’t do anything, his mind screamed. There seemed to be no point trying to convince her otherwise though, so he tried a different approach,

“And if I’m not responsible?” he throws back tactfully, trying to contain the anger that is bubbling up inside him. They weren’t even going to find out what had happened, were they? They were going to pin this all on him - an elf - and be done with it.

“Someone is, and you are our only suspect.” she stated, confirming his train of thought. She sighed lightly before continuing, “You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.”

He looks her in the eye at this, his own eyes narrow in mistrust. His eyes scanned over her features, trying to see if there was any hint of deception. When he found none he let out a breath, his face taking on a look of determination as he nodded his consent. Her eyes softened at this for a brief moment before she echoed his nod, turning and beckoning him to follow.

Walking through the town was nerve-wracking to say the least. Every eye was on him and not a single one of them was friendly. His ears pricked at some of the whispers he was hearing as he passed - they were colourful to say the least. He tried to ignore them, trying instead to keep his mind on the task ahead.

“They have decided your guilt.” Cassandra supplied from over her shoulder. Was she trying to make him feel better? She wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Devine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between the mages and the Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.”

Her voice had dropped low and he could hear the sadness and regret laced into her words. He felt like he should apologise, but he kept silent as they moved forward through the town. Soon enough, they stood before the gates of Haven, which the guards stationed there opened after Cassandra commanded them to.

“We lash out, like the sky.” she continued, walking under the stone archway and out onto the dirt road, stopping so that he could move to stand beside her. “But we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. Until the breach is sealed.”

She reached behind her back and retrieved a small dagger from her belt. Reaching over she took his bound hands and in one fluid movement cut through the course rope that had been biting into his skin. She dropped the rope to the ground before putting the dagger back in its spot on her belt. He used this slight pause as an opportunity to rub his sore wrists, massaging some feeling back into them.

“There will be a trail.” she stated, “I can promise no more.”

He looked her over again. Maybe he had been too harsh in his estimation of her. He respected that she was trying to stay neutral given the circumstances. She turned and walked forward again,

“Come, it is not far.”

“Where are you taking me?” he asked as he follows after her, quickly catching up to Cassandra so he could see her face. Her brow twitches in annoyance but she says nothing, forcing him to follow quickly.

Well, he thought to himself, at least it wasn’t slavers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... if you are still here reading. Thank you so much!  
> I think you can guess by now that this is going to be very slow going, but I hope you continue to read and support me.  
> I hope you enjoy the second chapter :)

They had been marching quickly down the dirt path for only a short time when they came to a bridge that was manned by more guards. In hindsight he should have seen it coming given his run of bad luck so far, but he was still shocked when, once they were about half way across the stone structure there came a hissing whirling noise. He looked up towards the sky and his eyes grew wide as a green shard of fire rushes towards them. In a split second decision he leapt to the side to get out of the direct impact, falling to the ground and hitting his shoulder hard on the stone. Then the bridge began to crumble and he was falling. Rolling with the falling debris he tried to shield his head with his arms before coming to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the ditch, loose stones falling all around him, some hitting into his back and legs.

Once it was over he got to his feet, dusting himself off quickly and took in his surroundings. They were now standing on a frozen lake and there, about thirty yards away was a group of monsters unlike anything he had ever seen before. They had already spotted Cassandra and him and were moving there way towards them.

“Stay behind me!” Cassandra yelled, drawing her sword and rushing forward to face them alone. Panicking his eyes darted around frantically to find anything he could use to help. Finally his eyes ended up on a pair of daggers that must have been stashed in one of the boxes that had been on the bridge. Regardless of how they got there he wasn’t complaining. He dashed forward and scooped them up, turning to help Cassandra with the fight. Now, the problem is, he was no warrior and he knew it. His slight stature had never lent well whenever he had trained in straight forward fighting. So instead he had to be more tactical with his movements, relying on his speed and flexibility to help him fight these demons. He dodged a claw, lunged forward with his daggers and slicing through flesh, the demon falling to the ground and fading away. This demon gone he looked around to see how Cassandra was doing. She was locked in a stalemate with her demon, another one closing in on her from behind. There was no way he could get to her in time so instead he prayed his aim would not fail him and threw one of his daggers. It whirled past Cassandra, narrowly missing her before burying itself in the creatures chest. It slumped to the ground behind her, dead. She yelled, pushing the demon away from her with brute strength and slashed her sword down on it, cutting it almost in half. 

“It’s over.” he sighed as he tried to regain his breath. Cassandra whirled around, grabbing his dagger and pulling it from the demon before it disintegrated into thin air. She stomped over to him, anger written all over her face,

“Drop your weapon.” she shouts threateningly, “Now!” 

He pauses in alarm as she got closer. Here he was, having just saved her life, and she still did not trust him? He huffed to himself and turned the dagger in his hand so that the hilt was offered towards her. There was no point in arguing with her.

“All right. Have it your way.”

She stopped in her tracks and looked him up and down. Her glare dropping from her face.

“Wait.” she said whilst sheathing her sword. “I can’t protect you. I should remember you agreed to come willingly.” she handed the dagger back to him and started walking again.

They continued along the frozen lake in silence before turning upwards when they came across a staircase cut into the mountain. By the time they were half way up they could hear the sounds of fighting.

“We’re getting close to the rift.” Cassandra said, breaking the silence. “You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” he asked.

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.”

With that she quickened her pace and he was forced to speed up to keep pace. They rounded the corner of a ruined building and got a clear view of the situation. Two figures battled with a group of demons a little further away under a shard of green that hung in the sky above them. One of the figures was hurling magic balls of ice toward them while the other seemed to be firing arrows with astonishing speed.

He rushed forward, not waiting for Cassandra to tell him otherwise. She follow close behind him, drawing her sword in the process. The fight was intense, but with their added assistance the fight was over quickly. 

The taller of the two newcomers - a bald elf with piercing eyes - marched over to him and grabbed him by his left wrist before he could do anything to defend himself.

“Quickly,” the elf shouts, thrusting his hand with the mark on it up towards the rift in the sky. “Before more come through!” Suddenly a ray of green broke from his left palm and snaked its way towards the rift. His palm felt like it was on fire and he could feel his knees going weak. Just as suddenly as it had happened it stopped, snapping the rift shut, the sky now clear where the tear had been as if nothing had ever been there.

“What did you do?” he asks, pulling his hand out of this strange elf’s grasp, holding it with his other hand defensively, taking a step or two away from him.

“I did nothing.” the elf chuckled, openly looking him up and down, “The credit is yours.”

He looked down at the hand he was still cradling with the other, “You mean this?” he indicates the mark.

The other elf faced him, his face curious but pleasant. There was something that didn’t quite sit well with him.

“Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand.” the elf explained, “I theorised the mark might be able to close the rift’s that have opened in the breach’s wake - and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the breach itself.” Cassandra supplied, simplifying what the elf had just said.

“Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” he said, indicating the mark on his hand.

The other figure - a dwarf, who was surprisingly beardless - who had stayed silent through this whole encounter finally spoke up.

“Good to know! I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” he joked as walking over to the rest of them with a swagger. He holstered his crossbow onto a harness on his back. “Varric Tethras: rouge, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tag-along.” he explains, winks over at Cassandra who looks like she had just stepped in something foul looking.

He’s not sure how all these people fit together so he grasps at straws, “Are you with the Chantry?” he asks, not sure what else to ask.

The other elf chuckles again, “Was that a serious question?”

Varric cuts in before anything can be said, “Technically I’m a prisoner. Just like you.”

Cassandra steps in defensively at that, “I brought you here to tell your side of the story to the Devine.” she huffs, “Clearly that is no longer necessary.”

“Yet, here I am.” Varric smirks, “Lucky for you, considering current events.”

Not knowing what else to say, seeing as he had no clue what was going on he simply went with it, “It’s good to meet you, Varric.”

“You may reconsider that stance, in time.” Solas commented, a faint smile on his lips.

Varric pretended to look offended, “Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.”

Cassandra’s face takes on a look of disgust and she quickly interrupts with a resound, “Absolutely not! Your help is appreciated, Varric, but …”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” he cuts in, one eyebrow raised, “Your soldiers aren’t in control any more. You need me.”

Cassandra looked like she would rather swallow her own tongue than agree with Varric, but he did have a point. Instead she produced a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and turned away. The other elf took this opportunity to introduce himself,

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still alive.”

Varric chuckled slightly, “He means “I kept that mark from killing you while you slept”.”

Blinking slightly he couldn’t help but wondered about this. How did this elf know so much about what was going on? No one else seemed to have a clue and yet no one was questioning him,

“You seem to know a great deal about it all?” he finally asked, fishing for answers.

“Unlike you, Solas is an apostate.” Cassandra supplied, like this was a perfectly fine answer. It wasn’t, and he had already figured out that Solas was a mage due to the flying ice shards earlier which made her comment irrelevant, thank you very much.

“Technically all mages are apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the fade, far beyond the experiences of any Circle mage. I came to offer any help I can give with the breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.” he stated matter-of-factly. That didn’t explain why he happened to be in the right place at the right time. Not wanting to draw attention to himself he stayed quiet about his queries.

Solas addresses Cassandra again, “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. You’re prisoner in no mage, yet he possesses such power. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

She thought about this for a second, coming to a conclusion in her mind, “Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

With that she began walking in the direction of what he could only assume was the forward camp. She didn’t even look around to see if they were following, she just assumed they would. Solas followed promptly, not saying anything else.

“Well, Bianca’s excited!” Varric shrugged and followed the other two down the path they had taken leaving him to stand there by himself.

“You know,” he began after them, “I have a name,” he stated to no one in particular, “not that any seems to care.” He began trailing after them, “It’s Mahanon. Just so you all know.”

They had come across more demons as they travelled, but they were able to cut through them easily enough and it did not take long before curiosity got the better of some of the party members.

“You are Dalish,” Solas stated as they walked briskly down a snowy bank, “but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?” he asked. Mahanon didn’t feel like answering this question, 

“What do you know of the Dalish?” he asked, avoiding the question defensively. It was not a subject he was willing to talk about while he was still under suspicion of destroying the conclave and tearing a giant whole in the sky. Plus, he wasn’t about to put his clan in any kind of danger by mentioning them in idle conversation with someone he didn’t even know.

“I have wondered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion.” Solas informed him nonchalantly.

“What do you mean by “crossed paths”?” he asked suspiciously,

“I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no other reason than their superstition.”

Great, he thought, another person who grouped all Dalish clans together and thought they were all the same … Fabulous.

“Can’t you elves just play nice for once?” Varric shot from behind them. He decided not to continue the conversation and so picked up his pace so that Solas could not talk to his as easily. They pressed on in silence until they came to the base of another staircase that they had to climb. A spark cracked from the mark on his had, shocking him. The pain was just as bad as the last time and he clenched his teeth to prevent himself from yelling out.

“My magic cannot stop your mark from growing further. For your sake, I suggest we hurry.” Solas commented. 

“So … are you innocent?” Varric asked clearly trying to take his mind off of the pain still tingling up his arm.

“I don’t remember what happened.” he said curtly, shaking his hand in an attempt to get rid of some of the pain.

“That’ll get you every time.” he chuckled, “Should have spun a story.”

“That’s what you would have done.” accused Cassandra.

“It’s more believable,” Varric defended, “and less prone to premature execution.”

Cassandra changed the subject suddenly as they neared the forward camp.

“I hope Leliana made it through all this.” her gaze was focused further up the hill.

“She’s resourceful, Seeker.” Varric chipped in.

“We will see for ourselves at the forward camp. We’re almost there.” Solas supplied pointing towards a gate house in the distance. 

As they got nearer they could make out the tell-tell smear of green across the sky outside the wooden door that indicated another rift. All at once they were running forward, their weapons at the ready. Varric and Solas stopped a distance away, firing arrows and magic at any of the demons who got too close to their comrades. Cassandra yelled as she hacked and slashed while Mahanon dodged and ducked, getting in fast before dodging oncoming blows. Once the demons had been thinned Mahanon took his chance and ran close to the rift himself and raised his left hand. He braced himself for the sharp pain he knew was coming and instead concentrated on trying to close the rift. Green light shot forth and connected with the rift and in a blinding crackle it had vanished from the air, just like last time.

“Open the gate.” Cassandra ordered to the guards who had been defending the gate from behind makeshift barricades they had erected.

“Right away, Lady Cassandra!”

They put their weapons away and gathered themselves, walking towards the gate.

“We are clear for the moment.” Solas remarked, “Well done.”

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful.” chuckled Varric.

They had made it to the forward camp, Mahanon peered around taking in the sight of it all. They were met almost immediately by shouting coming from the opposite side of the camp and so - of course - they made their way over to see what the commotion was.

“We must prepare the soldiers!” that was definitely Leliana’s voice - he recognised the accent.

“We will do no such thing!” a male voice threw back. It was older and seemed to try and emulate command.

“The prisoner must go to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!” Leliana was arguing.

Mahanon, he thought glumly. Not prisoner, Mahanon. They were now close enough to see the other person who was arguing. He was a man in his late fifties, dressed in chantry clothing and he looked furious. His cheeks were red from the cold and his face looked haggard.

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise of futility!” he shot back before he stopped short, noticing them for the first time.

“Ah, here they come.” he said in a mocking tone.

“You made it.” Leliana exclaimed walking around a table that was set up with maps and different kinds of papers to stand beside them. “Chancellor Roderick, this is -”

“I know who he is.” the chancellor chided. He turned his gaze on Mahanon and glared, “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Cassandra steps in, her face dark with anger.

“Order me?” she asked, almost spitting with rage, “You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!” she continued, waving her had forward to gesture toward him.

“And you are a thug, but a thug that supposedly serves the Chantry!” the Chancellor shot back, obviously not wanting to back down from this fight - like a dog with a stick.

Leliana jumped into the fight, “We serve The Most Holy, Chancellor, as well you know.” her words defending Cassandra.

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick yelled, his frustration finally showing, “We must elect a replacement, and obey her orders on the matter!”

This whole thing was getting out of hand and Mahanon felt like he had to step in to get them all back on track seeing as how Solas and Varric had elected to stay quiet for once.

“Isn’t closing the breach the more pressing issue?” he suggested, trying to stay as neutral as possible. Unfortunately, this just seemed to make the holy man more irate and he turned his accusing glare on him, pointing at him from across the table.

“You brought this on us in the first place!” he yelled before turning back to Cassandra, dismissing him instantly, “Call a retreat Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

Cassandra tried to reason with him, her voice straining to fight back her anger that was still simmering just below the surface, “We can stop this before it’s too late.” she tried.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple even with all of your soldiers.” he reasoned. Mahanon couldn’t help but think he sounded rather defeatist for someone who was supposed to believe in a higher power. Wasn’t he supposed to believe in diving justice and miracles? After all, they had already made it this far.

“We must get to the temple.” Cassandra pressed on, apparently giving up on reasoning with Roderick, “It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest.” Leliana interjected, stepping forward, “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.” Cassandra countered.

“Listen to me.” Roderick demanded, trying at one last attempt to get them to see his point of view, “Abandon this now before more lives are lost!”

As he says this the breach in the sky began to pulse and grow, swallowing just a little bit more of the sky. Mahanon’s hand flairs up, the same pain coursing up his arm. He grabbed his wrist to try and stop the muscle spasm, but it did little to help. Everyone in the party is stared at him. Roderick’s face was shocked when he saw the display and he seemed to finally be at a lose for words. It was Cassandra who spoke first,

“How do you think we should proceed?” she asked, looking at Mahanon.

“Now you’re asking me what I think?” he snarled sceptically, his hand still throbbing in pain.

“You have the mark.” Solas said, finally speaking up.

“And you are the one we must keep alive.” Cassandra supplied, “Since we cannot agree on our own …” she trails off, looking at him for and answer.

Mahanon took a deep breath and closed his eyes thinking over his options. If they were to take the direct route, solders were going to die. If they took the path through the mountain then soldiers were still going to die. But, he mused, they could possibly find this squad that had gone missing. They could have answers and information. He also didn’t fancy his chances at head to head fighting. Cassandra would be alright, but Varric and Solas were distance fighters and he himself was no real fighter. His clan had tried to stay away from humans as much as possible; only mixing with them when it came time to trade for supplies they could not pick up themselves in the forests or plains. So there had been little to no real fighting with his clan. The only skills he had were at hunting and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t serve him well on a battle field. He clenched his fists, why was it that all these lives were now being placed on his shoulders? He sighs and opens his eyes, it was going to be a bad outcome either way for the soldiers. He had made his decision. 

“I say we take the mountain path.” his voice came out surprisingly calm and he could see approval in both Varric and Leliana’s eyes. Solas looked thoughtful and Cassandra looked like she disapproved slightly. “Work together.” he continued, trying to get them focussed on what they need to do, “You all know what’s at stake.”

With that everyone was moving. Solas and Varric stepped up beside him, both like him, trying to stay out of the way of all the tactical stuff that they couldn’t help with. Cassandra and Leliana moved together to form their plan.

“Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley.” Cassandra was saying, “Everyone.”

Leliana turned and ran off, gathering her men to her as they headed up the trail towards the temple. He hoped they would be alright. After Leliana had left it was now their turn to get going.

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker.” Roderick threw at them as they walked past him. He had been mostly forgotten about in their preparations and was only now making any form of protest, however weak it was. She didn’t even spare him a glance as they headed for the mountain pass, their resolves were now like steal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments are always welcome and appreciated.

Who’s brilliant idea had it been to climb up the side of a mountain in favour of going the direct route anyway? Oh that’s right, his. He groaned silently as he stuffed his hands into his sleeves, trying to keep even a tiny bit of warmth close to him. His feet trailed in the thick snow and his teeth were chattering silently it was so cold. He decided to keep his head down and just focus on walking before he froze to death on the side of this blasted mountain. 

By the time they had made it to the lee of the mountain and into a somewhat sheltered area he could hardly feel the tips of his ears and his nose was threatening to start running. He looked about and everyone else appeared to looked just as miserable. Small victories, he thought to himself maliciously. 

“The tunnel should be just ahead.” Cassandra said as she made her way over to a set of wooden ladders that would presumably take them up to the opening of the tunnel. He looked up, his jaw going slack when he saw how far up they had to climb. His hands were already so numb and he would have to take them out of his sleeves to climb properly. “The path to the temple lies just beyond it.”

Cassandra went first and Mahanon followed after, the cold wood cutting at his thin fingers.

“What manor of tunnel is this?” Solas inquired as they made it to one of the landings, walking over to the next ladder, “A mine?”

“Part of an old mining complex.” Cassandra answered, “These mountains are full of such paths.”

“And your missing soldiers are in there somewhere?” Varric asked, his voice somewhat put off.

“Along with whatever has detained them.” Solas added. Mahanon was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one in the group who wanted to boot Solas off the ladder for that remark. It was completely unnecessary and considering all the messed up stuff they had already seen that day, really just an annoying thing to say out loud.

“We shall see soon enough.” Cassandra commented coolly.

They finally made it to the top and Mahanon cupped his hands together so that he could blow hot air on them. It helped a little but they were still freezing. He looked about at the view, nothing but snow and jagged rocks and of course, the giant breach in the sky. He shivered trying not to think about what would happen if their plan failed.

They made their way inside the tunnel and out of the wind. It was of no surprise that the tunnels were filled with demons that they had to fight their way through, but it was starting to get annoying. The tunnel was in fact a passageway with proper brickwork and there was evidence of the scouting group that had gone missing in the way of torches that were still lit in their brackets on the walls. It was a good thing Cassandra was with them because Mahanon was pretty sure he would have got lost within the first five minutes of walking through this place. There were twists and turns all over the place; not to mention the different rooms that would branch off every so often. Curiosity got the better of him and he poked his head through one such doorway. It had been dark but he had made out a desk and some bookshelves that looked like they were full of old musty books and bits of parchment paper littered the floor as if the room had been abandoned in a rush. He wondered when they had last been used. The tunnels had also evidently been getting used as a place to store supplies as sacks and barrels lined the walls and they looked relatively fresh.

After what seemed like an age they could finally see the light from the sun shining in through a door at the top of a set of stairs. Once they reached the top they discovered bodies lying at the entranceway, the scent of blood filling Mahanon’s nostrils. He scrunched his face up and tried not to look too closely at them. They must have ran toward the tunnels for safety only to be caught by the demons inside, it was so unfair.

He heard Varric sigh deeply off to his left, “Guess we found the soldiers?” he asked dejectedly. Mahanon noted that Varric was also trying not to look too closely at the bodies of the fallen men.

“That cannot be all of them.” Cassandra noted, a hint of surprise in her voice. She was probably already trying to think where they could be.

Varric caught onto this with enthusiasm, “So the others could be hold up ahead?” he asked, looking to Cassandra with hopeful eyes. She paused for a moment, not wanting to get his hopes up.

Solas interjected, bringing the party back on track, “Our priority must be the breach. Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

Varric looked like he was about to complain but thought better of it, “I’m leaving that to our elven friend here.” he said indicating Mahanon.

Mahanon couldn’t help but look over to Varric with a new found sense of respect as they continued down the road that would lead them to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He was a lot gentler than Mahanon suspected he would ever let on. The fact that he was also worried about these missing soldiers told volumes about him as a person. Mahanon couldn’t help but smile slightly when he thought about how he would probably flat out deny this description of himself if Mahanon ever felt the need to tell him about it.

However, they did not get far before they began to hear the sound of fighting and when they rounded the corner they could see the remaining soldiers. They were alive, but they were in real danger. They had been pinned down by a group of demons and were close to the cliffs edge. They had no where to run and so they were fighting as best they could. It was a loosing battle though because a rift was open right in front of them and it kept spewing more demons out time and time again.

Cassandra drew her sword and charged, the other three close on her heels. They were the only chance that these soldiers had and Mahanon just prayed he could pull off closing the rift again. 

“Lady Cassandra?” a female soldier yelled in surprise as they joined in with the fighting.

“Lieutenant! You’re alive!” Cassandra declared, unhidden relief shining clear in her voice as she slashed at a demon.

“Just barely.” the Lieutenant yelled back, here voice laced with fatigue and surprise. She was clearly bone weary, but their arrival seemed to spur her and the rest of the small group of survivors on. 

The fighting was over quickly with their added assistance and Mahanon raised his hand to close the rift before more demons could come through. The same pain laced through his arm but he worked through it, apparently getting worryingly used to the sensation. 

Solas walked over to his side, his eyes scanning over the scene in contemplation.

“Sealed, as before.” he observed, “You are becoming quite proficient at this.” he added, a small smile threatening to cross his face.

“Let’s hope it works on the big one.” Varric only half joked as he joined them. 

Cassandra did not make her way over to Mahanon and the other two straight away. Instead she made a beeline to the remaining soldiers. She made sure they were alright and that none of them were badly injured, her face nothing but pure concern. Mahanon watch the whole affair from a little distance away and came to the conclusion that Cassandra was a lot more caring that she let on. She was clearly a good leader: she cared about her people and she had given no thought about whether or not she should help them or not. She just did. Mahanon felt that, given different circumstances, he would probably have liked her a lot. It was kind of hard to fully like someone when they were your jailer after all.

“Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra.” the same female soldier stated, dusting off her armour. “I don’t think we would have held out much longer.” she admitted.

Surprisingly Cassandra did not take the credit, “Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant.” she said, turning to look in his direction, “He insisted we come this way.” Mahanon had not expected that. It would appear Cassandra was also a very honest person, which was always good to know.

“The prisoner?” her voice was confused, “Then you …?” 

Taking his cue, Mahanon stepped forward, “It was worth saving you, if we could.” he commented, nodding slightly towards the Lieutenant. He hoped he sounded sincere, he was after all, it was just that talking had never been his forte. 

She looked him over quickly, “Then you have my sincere gratitude.” she said curtly.

“The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment.” Cassandra cut in, gesturing back the way they had come from, “Go, while you still can.”

“At once.” the Lieutenant said before turning to her men, “Quickly, let’s move!” The other soldiers gathered themselves and set off, presumably back towards the forward camp. They passed by Mahanon and Cassandra, nodding to them and mumbling their thanks as they went.

Once the soldiers were out of sight, Cassandra squared her soldiers and got right back to business. She motioned for them to continue on towards the temple.

“The path ahead seems to be clear of demons as well.” Solas commented as they got back on their way, the road now heading downwards.

“Let’s hurry, before that changes.” countered Cassandra, quickening her pace.

They hadn’t been travelling for long before the silence got to Varric and he tried for some light conversation, “So … holes in the Fade don’t just accidentally happen, right?” he asked Solas who he was walking next to.

“If enough magic is brought to bear, it is possible.” Solas pondered, thinking it over.

“But there are easier ways to make things explode.” Varric commented plainly.

Solas gave a little chuckle, “That is true.”

“We will consider how this happened once the immediate danger is past.” Cassandra stated, her voice stern, effectively bringing an end to their conversation.

They continued on for a couple of minutes before they were finally at their destination. There, looming before them was the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Or at least where it used to be. There was nearly nothing left of the building. Walls were crumbling and blackened from the explosion, wooden beams charred and strewn randomly across the ground where they had landed after the roof had collapsed. The fires were still burning in places and black piles of ash were smouldering sinisterly all around. A smell hung on the wind, it smelled of ash and smoke, mingling with a sweet undertone that lingered sickeningly. As they passed through the shell of a building Mahanon tried his best not to look at the charred bodies that littered the ruins, no identifiable features remaining on their disfigured faces. So many people had lost their lives here, so why was he still alive? How had he escaped this fate? Mahanon's nose wrinkled in disgust and he could feel bile building up at the back of his throat. This was all so wrong. He looked to the others and saw that the same uneasy expression was painted on their faces. They said nothing. What could they possibly say when faced with such a site?

They walk under a crumbling archway which took them to the heart of the temple, the sky veiled by the breach. It shines a sickening green hew on them as it twists and swirls high above them. For a moment they all just stand and stare, no one quite able to believe what they are seeing. 

“The breach is a long way up.” Varric observes, saying what everyone else seems to be thinking.

Just at that moment, Leliana and her scouts enter behind them. As soon as she saw them her face lit up with relief,

“You’re here.” she announces, making her way over to them, her people following close behind her, “Thank the Maker.”

Cassandra looks relieved to see Leliana as well, but she jumped into command mode almost immediately after confirming she was alright,

“Leliana, have your men take up position around the temple.” she ordered, trying to form the best plan of action she could given that none of them knew what was going to happen once they closed the breach or if they even could.

Leliana noded in acknowledgement, instantly on the same wave length as she ushered orders to her men to take their positions around various points of the remaining structure. The archers stayed up high, keeping vigilant eyes on what was going on below. Some of the other men ran on ahead taking up position further down the rocky path that lead to the base of the breach.

“This is your chance to end this.” Cassandra commented, turning to look at him, “Are you ready?”

Mahanon gulped a little as he looked up at the daunting task that hung suspended so high above him, “I’m not even sure how to start getting up to that thing.” he stated. It was true that the mark on his left hand could be used to close the rifts from a distance away, but he doubted it would reach all the way to the breach.

Solas stepped forward, “No need, this rift is the first and it is the key.” he indicated downwards towards the base of the crater where there was indeed another rift glowing far below them. Mahanon hadn’t even thought to look anywhere other than at the breach. “Seal it, and perhaps we seal the breach.”

Cassandra stepped in at this, “Then let’s find a way down,” she states. Looks around at their surroundings she adds, “And be careful.”

The three companions all looked over at Mahanon at this moment. Great, he thought, now it was his responsibility to lead them all down the rocky ground towards a sinister green tear in the sky that may or may not kill them all. He sighed, resigning himself to the task at hand and started forward. He picked his way over shear rock that crumbled and shifted under his feet. One good thing that came from his nimble footing was that he could counterbalance himself for these minute shifts in the earth. Cassandra and Varric were not so lucky, he could hear Cassandra cursing venomously under her breath every time she stood on a bit of loose gravel. Varric was fairing better, being closer to the earth to begin with, but his face was still one of concentration.

They had gone on only a little while before a deep booming disembodied voice echoed out over the whole area, stopping everyone in their tracks.

“Now is the hour of our victory.” It rang out, “Bring forth the sacrifice.”

Everyone stood still, looking around with frantic eyes as they looked from one another to the surrounding area trying to figure out where the voice had come from. Mahanon said nothing, not wanting to be the first to speak and ask about the voice. It was one thing to have a strange magical glowing thing on your hand that could close rifts in the sky, but quite another to admit to hearing voices that seemed to have come from nowhere.

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked voice stern even though her eyes were still darting about for evidence of the intruding voice. 

“At a guess; the person who created the breach.” Solas supplied, his voice less than certain on the matter. They all silently agreed to carry on, all of them thoroughly unnerved by what had happened.

Moving further down the makeshift path that would lead them to the bottom of the crater that had been formed by the explosion the terrane got even worse and even Mahanon found himself sliding on loose gravel periodically. The rocks were blackened by fire and melted to grim shards that looked razor sharp. Soon they came to an outcrop that took them all by surprise. Red gleamed from the walls, it’s sheen casting strange shadows on the ground and rock face beside it. Mahanon had never understood what people meant when they had said you could feel magic in the air until that moment. The crystals seemed to thumb with forbidden magic and he shivered. What was this stuff? Mahanon walked as close as he dared to it, trying to look at it as closely as he could when they walked past it.

“You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.” Varric stated in disgust. His face scrunching in distaste at the red substance that looked like it had been dragged up viciously to breach the surface of the earth.

Cassandra looked over to him with mild annoyance, “I see it, Varric.”

“But what’s it doing here?” he asked more forcefully, not taking her curt acknowledgement quietly.

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it …” Solas offered, trying to calm the dwarf down.

“It’s evil.” he cut back, “Whatever you do, don’t touch it.” he cautioned, directing the last part towards Mahanon who had been hanging back a little from the others.

Mahanon quickly withdrew his hovering hand away from the red substance, hiding his hand behind his back, his face taking on a guilty expression. He made to apologise but was interrupted.

“Keep the sacrifice still.” the voice boomed again, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Someone help me!” a ladies voice cried out. Like the first, it came from no where and everywhere, reverberating off of the walls and making them stop in their tracks.

“That is Devine Justinia’s voice!” Cassandra called out to no one in particular. Her voice was laced with panic and they moved on faster than before, Cassandra practically sprinting to reach the rift that hung below the beach. 

They had made it, finally. Rounding a sharp corner they dropped down a large ledge of rock that might have once been a huge chunk of a stone staircase. Landing on the rocky gravel they all advanced on the glowing green rift. This was it, they had reached their destination and there was only one thing left to do.

“Someone help me!” the voice cried out again. 

“What’s going on here?” another voice called out, clearly surprised. It was eerily familiar and it sent a shiver down Mahanon’s spine. 

“That was your voice.” Cassandra yelled, rounding on Mahanon. He flinched away from her, not sure what he should say. He had no memory of any of this. “Most Holy called out to you. But …” 

Before she could say anything else the rift shifts and seems to explode in on itself, Mahanon’s hand flares up painful almost dropping him to his knees. There, before them, visions swirled in a greenish haze above them, and all any of them could do was stand there, their jaws slack in shock as the saw an older lady dressed in Chantry robes being held immobile by shadowy figures that they could not make out. This must have been the Devine Justinia that Cassandra had mentioned before. Off to her right they saw a shadowy door being pushed open and Mahanon saw himself run through it to stop dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in front of him. It was a bit disconcerting seeing himself like that, suspended in the air surrounded by green haze.

“What’s going on here?” they heard him call again,

“Run while you can!” the Devine yelled toward him, “Warn them!”

Suddenly a dark figure loomed over the scene with red piercing eyes. Its gaze was fixed firmly on Mahanon’s ghostly figure and he could see the fear in his own eyes as he stood there, rooted to the spot.

“We have an intruder.” the shade called out, “Slay the elf!”

As quickly as it had appeared, the vision was gone, vanishing from their sight with an audible snap.

Cassandra wasted no time in advancing toward Mahanon who was still staring at the sky in shock. 

“You were there!” she accused, her voice furious, “Who attacked? And the Devine, is she …?” she paused, her voice becoming panicked, “Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“I don’t remember.” Mahanon pleaded, taking a step backwards. He was at a lose, he couldn't remember any of this happening. Was this how it had all started? Had he tried to save the Devine?

“Echoes of what happened here.” Solas offered, gesturing to the clearing, “The Fade bleeds into this place.” he turned their attention back to the rift that hovered below the breach, “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed … albeit temporarily.” he explained, “I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.” he added, his face taking on a grim expression.

Cassandra quickly pulled herself together, “That means demons.” she stated. She drew her sword and readied her shield, “Stand ready!”

All too soon they were in position. Solas and Varric were standing close behind Mahanon and Cassandra stood to his right. Leliana and her men were scattered about the ruin, their arrows and swords pointed towards the rift.

Mahanon stepped forward and raised his hand, willing the rift to open fully. The power in the mark obeyed his will and shot from his hand to make contact with the rift that sparked to life. Almost immediately a huge shape tumbled from the rift. It was bigger than any demon Mahanon had seen so far and it terrified him. The pride demon got to its feet and it towered over everyone, it’s laughter echoed over the clearing like a crackling fire. 

Everything after that moment went past in a blur of motion. Everyone was attacking it with swords and arrows while lesser demons continued to stream though the rift into this world. Magic buzzed past his head while he dodged a demon swinging for his head. Rolling he brought his daggers up just in the nick of time to catch another demon in the stomach before its claws could gut him. The fighting continued on and on, he could see everyone getting tired, but so was the pride demon. Finally an opening came as the demon staggered to one knee.

“Now!” Cassandra yelled from across the clearing at Mahanon. He didn’t need to be told twice. He sprang forward, using the demons own arm to jump up and land the final blow, his daggers burying themselves in the colossal demon’s neck. Suddenly it was falling and he had a split second to lunge from it’s frame, barely managing to take in what was happening before he hit the ground, rolling to try and absorb some of the impact. A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and he was being dragged to his feet.

“Now!” Cassandra was yelling from beside him, her hand still gripping his shoulder, “Seal the rift! Do it!”

He took a breath to calm himself and stepped forward, one lone figure against a wash of green shards that twisted and writhed above them all. This was it, no turning back now. He raised his hand to the sky and summoned all the strength and courage he could muster. Like all the other times, the mark flared and green light shot from it to latch onto the rift, pain flaring up his arm. He yelled out, dropping to his knees as the pain grew more intense, gritting his teeth. He continued to concentrate on closing the rift and suddenly it exploded, a funnel of green smoke shooting towards the breach in the sky. He didn’t see what happened after that but he was sure it could be seen all the way back down in Haven. He gripped his arm in pain, suddenly feeling bone weary. He swayed where he was kneeling and suddenly felt completely drained. He pitched backwards unable to keep himself upright. He barley remembered hearing people calling his name but he was too far gone to care. His head hit the hard ground painfully and he could feel stones digging into his hip and shoulder. He felt hands grabbing at him, shaking him, but he did not respond. His head lolled to the side and he was gone. The blackness of sleep had called to him and he was too weak to fight it, slipped once again into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

He really had to stop making a habit out of waking up in strange and unfamiliar places. It was easier waking up this time, but his eyelids still resisted. He was so comfy and warm, something he couldn’t remember feeling for a long time. Soft waves of heat caressed his cheek and he could just make out the faint crackle of an open fire. He sighed thoroughly contented, he wondered how long it would take before Keeper would come and drag him out of bed. Bed? But he didn’t have a bed. Suddenly it all came rushing back to him.

His eyes flew open, dark lashes blinking a couple of times over green orbs. Where was he now? He tried to take in his immediate surroundings. He was lying on a soft wooden bed, the blankets were thick and heavily patterned in blues and golds. They looked rather expensive, which was a pleasant - if somewhat surprising - comparison from last time. His head rested on an equally comfy pillow, this did not however make him feel at ease. He lifted his head slightly so that he could look about a bit more.

The room he was in looked to be a wooden cabin of some sort and there were lit candles placed on various surfaces all around the room. There was indeed a fire burning in the other room of the cabin, and in front of the fire stood a figure walking quietly toward him. He stiffened up when he saw her and a light gasp must of escaped him because her head snapped up in surprise, dropping everything she had been carrying.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, clearly stressed by the situation, “I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” her face was one of shock and, was that fear?

Mahanon looked her over quickly as she stood there, hunched in on herself, clearly uneasy being in his presence. She was an elf, like him. Her frame was small and she appeared to be all gangly arms and legs. In fact it would have been hard to discern her gender just by looks alone, only her high voice gave her away. Her hands fidgeted with one another nervously as she waited for him to speak. He felt like he needed to reassure her.

“Don’t worry about it.” he began, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring as he sat up, “I only -”

He cut off what he was saying when the girl suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him. Mahanon’s eyes went wide with shock when she bowed low before him. Her forehead almost resting on the wooden floor as she continued,

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.”

This was getting out of hand. What was she even saying? Forgiveness? Blessing? What did she even have to be sorry for? Why did she think he could give her any kind of blessing? He had to get up, he had to try and fix this, calm her down if he could. He swung his legs off of the bed to rest his feet on the floor, vaguely noting that he was still wearing boots - but strangely not the ones he had been wearing when he had went to the breach. He also noted that he was not wearing the same clothes. He blushed slightly at the thought of some stranger undressing him when he was unconscious. 

“You are back in Haven, my Lord.” she continued rambling, looking back up at him, “They say you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand.”

The mark? He lifted his hand quickly and turned it so he could see his palm. It had indeed stopped growing, leaving a gash of green that reach across his palm but was still relatively thin. It lightly glowed green in the firelight, sparking now and then, but there was no pain like before, merely a strange tingling sensation. 

“It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days.” the girl continued. This confused Mahanon slightly considering how angry everyone had been with him before. 

“So you’re saying … they’re happy with me?” he asked cautiously. If possible, her eyes got even bigger when he asked her this.

“I’m only saying what I heard.” she explained, scrabbling to her feet, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” After that she started inching backwards towards the door of the cabin as if he was going to grab her at any second. Why was she so scared of him? He was a nobody. “I’m sure Lady Cassandra would want to know you’ve wakened. She said, “At once”.” she explained.

“And where is she?” Mahanon asked, finally standing up. His spine cracking slightly from the stretch.

“In the Chantry,” she answered still creeping closer and closer to the door, “with the Lord Chancellor. “At once,” she said.” and with that she spun around and bolted the rest of the distance to the door, opened it, and was gone. 

The door shut loudly behind her, leaving Mahanon in silent bewilderment. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get his thoughts in order. He had not died attempting to close the breach in the sky, and everyone was talking bout it. Great! Even more attention. He stood at the side on the bed chewing on his bottom lip slightly, trying to think what he had to do. He knew he couldn’t stay in this cabin forever, but he did not feel like venturing out just yet. Looking about the interior of where he had been taken he could see that it was at least welcoming, there was even a lute sitting propped up against a stool near the foot of the bed. Had someone been playing it while he slept? His brow furrowed at the thought. He walked over to a table that was set up next to the bed, there were books piled on it and paper was strewn over it’s surface. Curiously he picked one up and started to read it. His eyes widened in surprise at what he discovered. So he really had been here for three days already? Were they really that scared of him that they felt they needed to bring in a Templar? He shivered at the thought and looked down at his palm again. He put the paper back down and looked at the door.

He sighed heavily, he had wasted enough time. Resigning himself to venturing out into the town that had already treated him like a criminal, he squared his shoulders and made his was across the small room, past the burning fire and … and stopped. His hand was outstretched toward the handle, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn it, he was suddenly scared of what he was going to face. Were they still blaming him for what had happened? Was there still going to be a trial, and if so, was it going to be a fair one? Or were they just going to pin everything on the elf? He hoped these humans would be better than that. He suddenly realised for the first time just how alone he actually was in this town full of humans.

Resting his head against the wooden door he took a couple of steadying breaths, before pushing on the door. It opened a fraction and he peered out cautiously, dreading what he was going to face. There were guards stationed outside, not right outside - which was a blessing - but off to either side a little bit away. They looked like they were not actually guarding his cabin exactly, more like they were just guarding that area of the town. He chances to step outside, still holding onto the door. One of the guards notices him and nodded towards him, but apart from that he paid him no mind. That was a reassuring sign, right?

There was no point in standing in the doorway like a scared child, so he stepped forward, his boots crunching in the snow that had gathered on the ground. Walking down the lane he realises he was close to the entrance of Haven, which if his memory served him correctly - which was fifty-fifty given his current track record - meant he would have to walk up the hill to get to the Chantry. This meant walking past a big section of Haven and Mahanon was not looking forward to the people he would inevitably encounter along the way.

As he had suspected, as soon as he reached a more populated section of the town the whispers started. 

“Is that him?”  
“He stopped the breach from spreading you know?”  
“But he’s an elf!”  
“I heard he was the one who started all this in the first place.”  
“He doesn’t look all that powerful.”

People weren’t coming up to him and yelling, so that was something. No one bowed before him either, which funnily enough he realised was an even greater relief. Anger and mistrust he knew how to deal with, but people treating him almost reverently, not a chance. He hung his head and hurries on towards the Chantry, it was the biggest building there, so it was impossible to miss. 

Finally he made it to the Chantry, his heart beating furiously by this point. He was so nervous, but he was trying his best not to show it. He pushes the door open slightly and slunk in, choosing to stay to the shadows instead of out in the open down the middle of the pews that lined the great hall. He hurries down the room, his eyes darting about for Cassandra or anyone else he could recognise. Once he reaches the far side of the Chantry he was assaulted by raised voices coming from the other side of another door. 

Now, he had always been taught that it was rude to eavesdrop. However, given the current circumstances he reasoned that he would be forgiven this once. That and he was almost certain they were arguing about himself, so you know, to be forewarned was to be forearmed and all that. 

“Have you gone completely mad?” Mahanon was almost positive the voice belonged to … what was his name again? Roderick? “He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whoever becomes Devine!”

“I do not believe he is guilty.” Mahanon blinked in surprise. That was definitely Cassandra’s voice, and she seemed to be defending him. This reassured him greatly.

“The elf failed, Seeker.” Roderick continued, “The breach is still in the sky. For all we know, he intended it this way.” 

“I do not believe that.” Cassandra butted in, her voice showing she was clearly fed up. How many times had they had the exact same argument while he had been sleeping?

“That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chantry.”

“My duty is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours.” Cassandra corrected, a dangerous edge entering her voice. Mahanon had never been the best at judging situations or peoples emotions, but even he knew that it was time for someone to split these two up.

He opened the door, trying to be quiet. Unfortunately, the iron hinges creaked loudly once it got to a certain distance and Mahanon tried his best not to cringe as he stepped past the threshold. Four sets of eyes fell on him and he hoped he did not look as nervous as he was currently feeling.

Roderick spoke first, his face taking on a furious expression, “Chain him!” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger towards him, “I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

The two guards on either side of the door stepped towards him and he had to call on every inch of his self restraint not to turn and run for it.

Cassandra came to his rescue, “Disregard that, and leave us.” she orders. The guards stopped, salute her and push past him on their way out. It was good to know that the guards at least seemed to hold Cassandra in a higher position of authority that Roderick. 

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.” Roderick commented, his eyes like daggers.

Cassandra dismissed his comment, “The breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.” she continued,

“I did everything I could to close the breach.” Mahanon put in, feeling like he had to try and defend himself, “It almost killed me.”

Roderick jumped on his words like a terrier on a rat, “Yet you live! A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.”

Yes, it was actually, Mahanon thought angrily. He was not going to be made to feel guilty for being happy he was still alive. Especially by this spiteful little man who didn’t know a damn thing about him.

“Have a care, Chancellor.” Cassandra warned, “The breach is not the only threat we face.” 

“Someone was behind the explosion at the conclave.” Leliana stated, walking out from where she had been standing in the shadows. Mahanon nearly jumped at her sudden appearance, but managed to stop himself. How did she do that? “Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others - or have allies who yet still live.”

Even Mahanon could hear the double edge to her words so he looked back to see Roderick’s reaction. It was priceless. His face took on a somewhat blank expression, then understanding seemed to dawn on him because his face went almost crimson with anger.  
“I’m a suspect?” he sputtered, clearly not expecting such an accusation to be flung his way. Welcome to the club, Mahanon thought.

“You,” Leliana clarified, “and many others.”

“But not the prisoner?” he asked furiously, once again waving his hand in Mahanon’s direction.

Cassandra decided to step in at this point, “I heard the voices at the temple.” she explained, “The Devine called out to him for help.”

Roderick was having none of this, “So his survival, that thing on his hand - all a coincidence?”

Mahanon couldn’t help but move his hand behind his back defensively at that.

“Providence.” Cassandra corrected, “The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

This did not sound pleasant for him. What did she mean the Maker? How could a human believe that the Maker sent an elf to help them?

“You realise I’m an elf, right?” he was certain she did, but his addled brain had to make sure, “A Dalish elf.”

Cassandra cast his a disapproving glance at this, “I have not forgotten. No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

Mahanon could not help but raise an eyebrow at this. That kind of sounded like she was stating that her beliefs had more standing than his own. This did not sit well with him, but he kept his thoughts to himself. There was no point in arguing with the main person defending him and keeping him from execution.

Leliana followed after Cassandra with her own thoughts on the matter, “The breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.” 

“This is not for you to decide.” Roderick practically spat.

Cassandra huffed and straightened to her full high, clearly she had had enough of this argument. She stepped over to a table off to the side and picked up a rather heavy looking book. Dropping it on the table in front of them all she pointed her finger at it, her words directed at Roderick, “You know what this is. A writ from the Devine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

She took this opportunity to advances on Roderick, towering over him, her eyes like steal and fire, “We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval.” she stated, her words leaving no room for argument.

Roderick - give him his dues - knew when he was defeated. He glared one last glare at Cassandra and the other two in the room before turning and marching out, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Leliana continued as if nothing had happened, addressing both Cassandra and himself, “This is the Devine’s directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice; we must act now.” Cassandra stated, turning her full attention to Mahanon, “With you at our side.”

Panic was not the word Mahanon would later use to describe that moment. Countless questions came to his mind all at once and he couldn’t make hide nor tail of the situation.

“What if I refuse?” he asked, surprised that the words came out sounding so calm.

“You can go if you wish.” Leliana stated, her voice calm and neutral. This worried him somewhat.

“You should know that while some believe you chosen, many still think you guilty.” Cassandra added, “The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us.”

Well wasn’t that reassuring? Mahanon was not impressed.

“We can also help you.” Leliana offered, indicating his hand.

“It will not be easy if you stay, but you cannot pretend this has not changed you.” 

Cassandra’s words were not wrong. Nothing made sense any more, but he still needed to make a decision. It didn’t sound like they were going to imprison him, it almost sounded like they wanted him to help them. He chewed on his bottom lip, quietly thinking it over. He could always go back to his clan? He knew they would always take him in and protect him, but he did not want to be a burden on them. He didn’t want any more of his clan getting hurt or killed because of this mess. Besides he had no idea how to find them, they had probably already moved on from where they had last been and without his clan he was just one elf, alone. If he stayed …

“If you’re truly trying to restore order …” he started, not really sure if this was him accepting or declining their offer.

“That is the plan.” Leliana answered, not a hint of deception in her voice.

“Help us fix this before it’s too late.” Cassandra added, offering him her hand and he stared at it for a moment. Well Mahanon, this is a right mess you’ve got yourself into. Nodding in agreement he took her outstretched hand and shook it.

Everything after that moment happens so fast. Mahanon was practically pushed to the sides in the days that follow, taking a back seat in the planning. Two more join the group and the planning really began. The first is was woman with thick black hair and tanned skin and her name was Josephine. She came from Antiva, and her accent had the same richness as Leliana's. She was to be their new Diplomat to the Inquisition and she wasted no time in trying to establish trade agreements and other such documentation that would help the organisation grow. She was courteous to Mahanon and tried her best to help him settle in. The other new face was a man in his mid-thirties. He had sandy blond hair and was impressively tall, not to mention his clothing was somewhat intimidating. Mahanon couldn’t help but feel he has a kind of haunted look about him, but he couldn’t explain why, maybe it was something in his eyes. He was in charge of their soldiers, apparently he had been a Templar before this, but this meant little to Mahanon as he has had little to do with mages or Circle Towers. The man seemed to be well liked by the soldiers and he proved to be a great asset to their planing. 

All too soon though, they had come to the end of their planing and their debating. It was time to act. Leliana sent out ravens with news of the Inquisition and its restoration. She sent them far and wide: to Denirum, to Redcliff, even as far as Orzammar and Val Royeaux itself. He saw Cullen Hammer a notice of the Inquisition on the Chantry’s door. Roderick had stood in a crowd of villagers, his face no longer one of anger, but one of deep concern and worry. All around him he can hear the panic and shock in their voices, this was not what they had expected when the conclave had been set up, now their town was being use as the headquarters of the Inquisition.

They gathered on the steps of the Chantry: Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen, Josephine and Mahanon himself. They all looked towards the Chantry door as a banner fell, ruffling in the mountain breeze. A single eye in front of a sunburst; the symbol of the Inquisition.

There was no turning back now, Mahanon thought to himself. The Inquisition was reborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I would love to get some feedback, so feel free to leave a comment if you would like. Thanks again and I hope you have a great day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,  
> Sorry for not posting for the last month, I've been busy running about the place with home life! here's the next chapter! as always ... I hope you enjoy!

After spending the next morning being herded all around Haven to meet various people of importance to the Inquisition, Mahanon was summoned to the Chantry where he was met by Casandra at the door. They walked into the tall building together, this time right down the middle of the isle. It made Mahanon nervous to be that exposed, but he pushed his nerves to the back of his mind as he walked. Cassandra looked him over out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he was fidgeting with his left hand.

“Does it trouble you?” she asked, bringing Mahanon out of his thoughts. He looked over at her, confusion written all over his face. She nodded to the mark on his hand and she could see when the so-called ‘penny dropped’ clearly on his face. She also couldn’t help but notice how quick he was to side step her question.

“I just wish I knew what it was.” he answered, not making eye contact, “Or how I got it.”

She chose to ignore his reaction for now, choosing instead to try and comfort him as much as she could, 

“We will find out. What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed - provided the mark has more power.” she says, trying to sound reassuring. She considered not say the next part of her news, but decided it would be best to leave nothing out, “The same level of power used to open the breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.” she studied Mahanon’s face closely for any signs of reluctance.

Mahanon looked off into the distance for a split second before turning to her and flashing her a toothy grin, “Sounds like fun.”

Cassandra was taken aback at this reaction and Mahanon couldn’t help but feel a little bit smug at causing her face to go slack the way it did. They stopped in front of the door leading to the room they had taken over to make plans, would you call it a War room? Mahanon pondered. Cassandra finally cracked a small smirk at the side of her lips,

“Keep that glib humour, it will stand you in good stead.” she commented before entering through the door.

Leliana, Cullen and Josephine were already waiting for them when they got in and it crosses Mahanon’s mind that this was the first time he has been in a room with just the three of them - four if you included Cassandra.

Josephine acknowledged him with a cheerful smile and a nod, her usual wooden parchment board in her hand, red wax dripping down the candle that was placed at the top so that she could see her notes properly in the dimly lit room.

“Andaran atish’an.” she greeted. Mahanon was taken slightly off guard on hearing this elven greeting.

“You speak elven?” he asked curiously.

“You just hear the entirety of it, I’m afraid.” she admitted. Mahanon decided that he liked Josephine. She was trying her best to be accommodating of him and his customs, and she seemed to be a genuinely caring person.

Cassandra decided to skip the greetings and jumped straight into business, “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the breach for good.” she began, bringing Mahanon’s attention back to the others in the room.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Leliana cut in.

Cullen stepped forward at this, “And I still disagree.” he stated, an annoyed look on his face. Clearly they had already been discussing this subject before Mahanon had arrived, “The Templars could serve just as well.” 

Cassandra tried to get them back on track, “We need power, Commander. Enough power poured into that mark -”

“Might destroy us all.” Cullen shot back. “Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it so -”

“Pure speculation.” Leliana accused, clearly irritated by being interrupted. Mahanon wasn’t sure about either option to be honest. Both seemed to have catastrophic consequences if something went wrong. He wished they would stop arguing with one another and draw up comparisons or something. Arguing got you nowhere after all.

“I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.” Cullen was arguing. 

Josephine seemed to have the same idea as Mahanon because she cut in with the true root of their problems. 

“Unfortunately neither group will even speak to us yet.” she said plainly in an attempt to bring them back to their main objective, “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition - and you, specifically.” she said facing Mahanon. 

Great, that was just what he needed, “They still think I’m guilty.”   
His words were more of a statement than a question, he already knew the answer after all.

“That is not the entirety of it any longer.” Josephine said, her face looking rather concerned, “Some are calling you - a Dalish elf - the “Herald of Andraste”, that frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harbouring you.”

Cassandra made a disgusted sound and sneered slightly, “Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt.”

Josephine pushed forward, trying to ignore Cassandra’s accusation, “It limits our options. Approaching the mages or the Templars for help is clearly out of the question.”

Mahanon couldn’t stay quiet any longer. They all seemed to have breezed past what he thought was the most worrying part of all,  
“Just how am I “The Herald of Andraste”?” he asked, his tone slightly indigent. He was not happy at all with this outcome. Not to mention that it was rather insulting to have someone else’s beliefs dumped on you all of a sudden.

“People saw what you did at the temple,” Cassandra was explaining, “how you stopped the breach from growing. They also have heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.”

They believed what now? Mahanon was now thoroughly bewildered.

Leliana tried to calm the situation, “Even if we try to stop that view from spreading -”

“Which we have not.” Cassandra added, her tone sounding just as annoyed as Mahanon was feeling.

There was a sudden silence in the room as Cassandra and Leliana stared at each other from across the small room. Clearly this was another matter that had been discussed in length without Mahanon’s presence. Both parties also seemed to be in opposition to each other, but neither seemed willing to back down. He knew by now that Cassandra was the painfully honest type. Leliana on the other hand was the Inquisitions spy master and so Mahanon reasoned would not feel guilty in bending the truth. She was probably wanting to use this information to help the Inquisitions reputation and Cassandra being so honest probably hated the idea immensely. 

Leliana seemed to give in first, “The point is, everyone is talking about you.”

Cullen stepped in, ignoring the two women and addressing Mahanon himself, “That’s quite the title, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly, trying for some humour, “How do you feel about it?” This was probably one of the first times anyone had actually asked him for his opinion on any of these matters. Mahanon sighed, trying to think of an answer that would get his point across loud and clear without seeming indelicate. 

“I’m no herald of anything,” he finally went with, “particularly not Andraste.” he added, hoping to get the point across that he was still in fact Dalish which meant he did not believe in the Maker or in Andraste.

Cullen clearly got the message and laughed slightly before saying, “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”

Leliana did not seem as good natured towards his reply, “People are desperate for a sign of hope.” she tried to reason, “For some, you are that sign.”

“And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong.” Josephine commented, clearly trying to give both sides of the argument.

“They aren’t concerned about the breach?” Mahanon cut in, “The real threat?”

Cullen smiled slightly at this, “They do know it’s a threat.” he answered, “They just don’t think we can stop it.”

“The Chantry is telling everyone that you’ll make it worse.” Josephine added.  
“There is something you can do.” supplied Leliana, “A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”

Mahanon really did not like the idea of talking to a Chantry sister about whether or not he was a Devine herald to a religion he didn’t even believe in. He also knew there was probably no getting out of it,

“I’ll see what she has to say.” he said curtly.

This was all the consent Leliana needed, “You will find Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.” she explained, pointing to a great map that was opened on the table in front of them. 

“Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisitions influence while you are there.” Cullen cut in. Ever the opportunist, Mahanon noted. 

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited to recruit them.” supplied Josephine.

Cassandra, who had been surprisingly quiet through all of this finally spoke up, “In the meantime, let’s think of other options. I wont leave this all to the Herald.”

Mahanon eventually managed to sneak out of the room, it wasn’t like they were paying him much notice by that point anyway. He had learnt his lesson with the door the first time and did not make the same mistake twice. It made no sound as he quietly exited the room and hurried out the front door. Outside in the cool mountain air he could finally breath again. 

He hurried away from the giant doors and into Haven itself. He didn’t want to be noticed by any of the guards after all. He was sure they knew he was supposed to be in that meeting until the bitter end.

He rounded the corner of a wooden house that was next to the apothecary building, if he remembered correctly.

“The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.” a familiar voice rang out from across the small clearing. He looked over to see Solas standing outside a small cabin. Walking over to him he couldn’t help but notice the look of amusement on Solas’ face - well at least one of them was finding this all funny.

“I’ve no interest in being a hero.” Mahanon stated, “All I want is to find a way to seal this breach.”

“Pragmatic, but ultimately irrelevant.” Solas said, somewhat sympathetically as he walked to a ledge that lead down to a lower section of Haven. The vantage point provided a clear view of the town and Solas looked out at it in thought before continuing,

“I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade into ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilisations.” Solas explains, still looking into the distance, “I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to re-enact the bloody wars both famous and forgotten.” he continues, turning to Mahanon, finally addressing him head on, “Every war has its great heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

Mahanon was not at all comfortable with where this conversation was going. Luckily his curiosity has been peeked and he grabbed onto this other train of thought.

“Wait, what do you mean, ruins and battlefields?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Solas laughed lightly, his eyes approving.

“Any building strong enough to withstand the riggers of time has a history.” he explained. “Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.”

“You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins?” Mahanon asked, somewhat astonished, “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Once again Solas laughed in amusement, “I do set wards,” he pointed out, “and if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That’s Extraordinary.” It was true. Mahanon had heard his Keeper talk about the Fade on many occasions, but never once had anything like this ever come up.

“Thank you.” Solas said, his ego clearly stroked, Mahanon realised that Solas was actually a lot more interesting that he had first appeared. He also had to wonder how long he had been studying this type of magic to perfect it as he had. “It’s not a common field of study,” he continued, “for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old-dream? I would not trade it for anything.” he said, his voice growing wistful toward the end. “I will stay then. At least until the breach has been closed.”

Mahanon couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the side of his mouth, “Was that in doubt?”

Solas looked at his with a somewhat disbelieving look, “I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces.” he explained. “Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution.”

Mahanon kept forgetting that humans treated their mages differently that the Dalish. It was the reason for this whole mess in the first place. Be that as it may, Mahanon realised that he truly believed Solas would not come to harm here,

“Cassandra trusts you.” he said, “She won’t let anyone put you into a Circle against your will.”

Solas slightly raise an eyebrow at this, “Thank you, I appreciate the thought.” There was something in his eyes at that moment that Mahanon couldn’t quite place. “For now, let us hope either the mages of the Templars have the power to seal the breach.” 

Clearly this was the end of their conversation, so Mahanon said a quick goodbye and moved on.

It was not long before he came across Varric. He was sitting in front of a fire that had a tent set up beside it. He warmed his hands by it before looking over and spotted Mahanon. He stood up and beckoned him over. Mahanon walked over quickly, his boots crunching in the snow that lay at the road side.

“So,” Varric began, “now that Cassandra's out of earshot, are you holding up alright?” Mahanon had not been expecting such an upfront question and so was at a lose for words. Varric continued, seemingly not phased by his silence, “I mean, you go from the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.” he stated, a soft smile on his face.

“I have no idea what’s happening any more.” Mahanon finally admitted. He was just one elf, how was he possibly supposed to fix everything? How did he become such a symbol of hope? 

“That makes two of us.” Varric laughed quietly, “For days now, we’ve been staring at the breach, watching demons and maker-knows-what fall out of it. “Bad for moral” would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

This peeked Mahanon’s interest and he found himself unable to not ask, “If it was that bad, why did you stay? Cassandra said you were free to go.”

Varric smirked slightly, his eyes slightly downcast as he considered the question, “I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy,” he commented, smirking, “but this? … Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.” he explained.

Mahanon sympathises with him completely. This was bigger than all of them, but they were the ones that had been landed with this seemingly impossible task.

“I still can’t believe all this is really happening. I hope we can seal it soon.” Mahanon commented, not sure if hew had meant that for Varric or if it was just good to finally say to out loud.

“If it can be sealed.” Varric pointed out, “You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognise where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

Varric went back to warming his hands by the fire and Mahanon decides that that was his queue to leave. However, he had only taken a few steps before a slight niggling got the better of him and he turned slightly to look over is shoulder at the dwarf.

“Varric?” he asks, getting his attention again, “You say you’re selfish and irresponsible.” Varric raises an eyebrow in response and shrugs. Mahanon continues, “You know, you say that … yet you’re this first person in all of this to ask if I was alright?” Varric looks taken aback, “Just something you might want to think on.”

With that Mahanon hurries on. If what everyone was discussing earlier was anything to go by, he would very shortly be leaving Haven to travel to The Hinterlands to find this Mother Giselle. He hoped there wasn’t going to be too much trouble when they got there. He was well aware of the fighting that was taking place all over Ferelden and Orlais due to the mage rebellion and he knew they were going to be facing many refugees that were scared and homeless. 

~*~

Travelling to The Hinterlands had been an eventful change of pace. Along with Cassandra, Solas and Varric had tagged along again. It was nice having people that were not directly linked with the Inquisition travelling with him, because it made him feel more at ease. Cassandra was nice enough, but she always seemed to have her guard up.

The surrounding area was also a vast improvement to Haven. It was much warmer for a start and Mahanon found his mood improving as the sun shone down brightly. The terrain was still somewhat rugged, but there were trees and plants and best of all, no snow. They were on their way to rendezvous with their scouts in the hills just above the crossroads, but they had already encountered trouble along the way. Rebel mages and rogue Templars were in constant battle against each other and neither side seemed to care who got caught in the crossfire. It turned out that their scouts had been in just such a scuffle before they arrived, but the mages had clearly not known who they were dealing with when they attacked.

Walking into the camp, Mahanon couldn’t help but notice the tell-tell signs of the fight that must have occurred. There was a broken barrel that must have held some kind of supply and a broken arrow embedded in a tree near to the outskirts of the camp. There were also a couple of ominous blood spatters hidden in the foliage out of the way. Apart from that they had suffered no injuries and the fighting had clearly been dealt with quick.

A female dwarf made her way over to them. She was wearing light armour and had a bow and quiver of arrows on her back. She had light brown hair that had been pulled back into a messy bun with braids keeping it in place and her face was pleasant. When she got closer Mahanon couldn’t help but notice she had the most amazing coloured eyes he had ever seen, they were yellow, with specks of green a brown that flecked through them.

“The Herald of Andraste!” she exclaimed, clearly not expecting him to be there himself, “I’ve heard the stories. Everyone has. We know what you did at the breach. It’s odd for a Dalish elf to care what happens to anyone else, but you’ll get no back talk here. That’s a promise. Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I - all of us here - we’ll do whatever we can to help.” she said all in one go. He wasn’t sure if there had been a slight insult in that whole thing, but he was sure that if there had been, she probably hadn’t meant it.

Varric sauntered over, his thumbs tucked into his belt and a smirk on his face, “Harding, huh? Ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?”

Mahanon groaned internally. What kind of line was that?

Harding looked at Varric, her brow crinkled in confusion, “I can’t say I have, why?”

“You’d be harding in … oh, never mind.” Varric said defeated. Cassandra made the same disgusted sound again and rolled her eyes. All Mahanon could do was shake his head.

“What’s the situation out here in the Hinterlands?” he asked, trying to bypass the whole situation.

“We came to secure horses from Redcliffe’s old horse master.” explained Harding, “I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet’s herd were the strongest and the fastest this side of the Frostbacks.” Was that a little bit of pride in her voice? “But with the mage-templar fighting getting worse, we couldn’t get to Dennet. Maker only know if he’s even still alive. Mother Giselle’s at the crossroads helping refugees and the wounded.” she continued, gesturing toward the road that would take them there, “Our last reports say that the war’s spread there, too. Corporal Vale and our men are trying to do whatever they can to protect the people, but they won’t be able to hold out very long.” she seemed to realise that she had gone on quite a bit, hastily adding, “You best get going. No time to lose.”

Mahanon nodded his agreement, giving her a smile before they headed off down the sloping path that lead to the crossroads and Mother Giselle. The plantation was lush in this area, and Mahanon found himself getting distracted by the different plants that grew in this area. There was lots of sun, but there was enough shelter from the cliff that there was no wind to disturb them.

They had almost made it to the crossroads when they started to hear the sound of fighting. Looking at each other, they all silently agreed on their course of action and took off towards the sound. A group of mages were fighting a band of Templars and the refugees had been caught in the crossfire. The charged magic and arrows flew from Solas and Varric while Cassandra swooped in with her swords and shield, Mahanon close on her heels with his daggers.

There were already Inquisition soldiers in the area and with their combined help the fighting was over quickly. Mahanon looked out over the scene, bodies of Templars and mages alike. It made no difference once you were dead, why couldn’t they just understand this? One of the soldiers had been killed by a Templars arrow and another four were wounded, but not too badly. The remaining Inquisition drew together near a statue in the centre of the crossroads. Mahanon walked with them, curious to see what was going on. They were erecting a banner in front of it, a banner with the Inquisitions sigil.

Mahanon turned from the display feeling uneasy about what this action meant for the future. Walking a little farther into the area they found Mother Giselle with a wounded soldier. Cassandra and the others stopped as Mahanon carried on towards her, stopping when he heard her talking,

“There are mages who can heal your wounds. Lie still.” she was saying.

“Don’t … let them touch me, Mother. Their magic …” the soldier was pleading, his face a mask of genuine fear.

“Turned to noble purpose, their magic is surely no more evil than your blade.” the Mother interjected, clearly not taking no for an answer, but sugar coating it all the same.

“But …”

“Hush, dear boy. Allow them to ease you suffering.”

The soldier finally gave in and the mage moved to help with his wounds. Mother Giselle got up from her position next to the soldier and turned her attention to Mahanon.

“Mother Giselle?” he asks out of formality.

“I am. And you must be the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste.”

Well that didn’t take long. His brow twitched slightly at the remark.

“I’m told you asked for me?” he asked curtly, he didn’t know why, but something about Mother Giselle did not sit right.

She turned then, beckoning him to walk with her as she checked on the other wounded soldiers.

“I know of the Chantry’s denouncement, and I’m familiar with those behind it.” she commented, “I won't lie to you: some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Devine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people, senselessly taken from us …”

“What happened was horrible.” he agreed.

“Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason.” she turned, looking him in the eye. “Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe.”

“You want me to appeal to them?” he asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise. What was she saying?

“If I thought you were incapable, I wouldn’t suggest it.” she supplied, her face neutral.

“Will they even listen?” He certainly had his doubts.

“Let me put it this way: you needn't convince them all, you just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their united voice. Take it away from them and you receive the time you need.”

Mahanon let her words sink in. He realised in that moment that this Mother Giselle was a formidable woman. He wondered if anyone else realised jut how calculating she was. 

“So I show up, say hello, show them the mark on my hand …?” Mahanon asked somewhat sarcastically, trying to cover up his sudden analysis of the woman. 

“I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by fate or sent to help us …but I hope.” she continued, brushing past his sarcastic words, “Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us … or destroy us. I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry that would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much. But I will do whatever I can.”

Mahanon watched as she walked away, not sure if he should trust her. He wondered how she had come to the decision to help the Inquisition, she was a smart lady, so why was she tying her lot in with a group that could crash and burn? Another thought crossed his mind in that moment, just how much was her help going to cost in the long run?


End file.
